Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (263 page)

I walked through the massive glass double doors at the front entrance and spotted Bradley right away. He was seated in the lobby, surrounded by yet more water features and amazing art. He popped up from a sleek leather sofa. “I’m so glad you came!”

I felt a small twinge of guilt at his words. I was glad to see him too, but my motives were far from pure. “Thank you for the invite. This place is incredible!”

He nodded tiredly. “It is, but as you can imagine, it can also be a very sad place.” He gestured for me to join him as we began walking down a long hall. “We’ll be going over to the critical care side.”

Bradley escorted me through another set of double doors and back outside, where we strolled across a lovely rose garden in which several elderly people sat feeding birds, talking, and playing chess. Further off in the distance, on the other side of the garden, I spotted a fenced-in pool with what appeared to be waiters carrying trays, moving purposefully amongst the occupied lounge chairs. You could call this place what you liked, but as far as I was concerned, it was a five-star hotel for the over-55 crowd. Or at least that’s what I thought until we stepped into another building that looked and felt much more like a hospital.

It was sterile and the smell of rubbing alcohol permeated the air. Bradley checked in at a nurse’s station.

“Hello, Mr. Verne.” A young, studly looking guy with a slight accent stood up from behind the desk. He wasn’t my type, but I am certain I was in the minority. He had massive, broad shoulders, wavy golden hair, light blue eyes, the obligatory California tan, and a smile he had to have paid a hefty price for. He looked like his name should have been Sven. Golden Sven to be exact.

“Good afternoon, Dederick.”

Or … Dederick. Dutch maybe?

Bradley turned to me. “Dederick is my father’s head nurse. He’s been with us from the start. He’s wonderful with him.” He shifted his gaze back to the nurse. “How is Dad doing today?”

Dederick frowned, sympathetically. “The same, sir. I’m sorry.”

Bradley sighed sadly. “I know you’re doing what you can.” He reached out to clap Dederick gently on the arm. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have Kristen take you down to your dad’s room today, if that’s okay. I have another patient who needs an IV bag changed and,” he leaned over towards us, lowering his voice, “he’s a bit cantankerous.”

“Of course. No problem,” Bradley said.

Dederick lifted a walkie talkie device to his mouth, speaking quietly into it. About thirty seconds later, a bright, attractive young woman with some major bounce in her step approached.

“Oh Mr. Verne!” she chirped. “So nice to see you.” Her voice held more than a hint of a southern accent … Georgia maybe? Alabama?

“You, too.” He turned to me. “Evie, this is Kristen. Kristen just happens to be my dad’s favorite nurse. Go figure.”

We all shared a laugh and Kristen smiled cheerfully. Clearly Mr. Verne liked his women young and pretty.

Dederick cleared his throat gently. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on that patient.” He turned to go and then stopped momentarily. “Oh, and before I forget, Miss Preston, I’ll need to take your purse and place it in one of our secure lockers. We don’t allow bags of any sort into our critical care room, for security reasons.”

“Oh okay. Sure.” I handed him my purse. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to have it away from my person but rules were rules.

“I’ll be back at the nurse’s station when you’re finished and can retrieve it for you.”

I nodded.

“Nice meeting,” he said, smiling again.

“And you.”

Dederick turned to leave, and we followed perky Kristen down the hall. She opened the door to a dimly lit room. In the middle was a narrow bed on wheels. Lying on the bed was a very thin and weathered elderly man. He was pale, almost grey, and hooked up to all sorts of machines. The only sound in the room was the repetitive pumping noise from one of the machines.

Bradley pulled up a seat for me and Kristen excused herself. Bradley didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Finally he broke the silence.

“You know, he was always so disappointed in me. Always. I have been trying to please him since the day I was born. Or at least that’s how it feels. I love him so much. I wanted to be like him. But he never really loved me. Not the way he did Nick.”

“That must have been so hard for you.” My parents may have been strict, but I never once felt like they didn’t love me as much as they loved Hannah. I couldn’t imagine how that must have made Bradley feel.

Bradley nodded, tearing up. “It was. It is. But I never held it against Nick. I mean, once I moved into adulthood and stopped being so focused on my own needs, I was able to get over the whole jealousy thing.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “Truth is, I gave my dad so many reasons not to think highly of me. I got kicked out of expensive schools, partied like a rock star, dated all sorts of women, and even have a couple of illegitimate children my dad has graciously taken care of while also making sure the women didn’t come back to take more from the family. Then, Raquela came along.” He smiled softly. “I think marrying her is the only thing my dad has ever approved of. She set me on a good path, you know, and now I’m sure she’s as disappointed in me as he’d be.” Bradley sighed, placing his elbows on his knees and staring long and hard at the polished floor.

“Wait, what do you mean?” I asked.

“I had to file for bankruptcy. The article Jackson wrote—you must have seen it—it mentioned a well-to-do movie producer filing bankruptcy.” He glanced back up at me sheepishly. “That guy was me.
Is
me. My last few movies have completely tanked, and I’ve made some poor business decisions. The last decent thing I did was pay off the bills on Nick’s place. I’m so good at playing a rich guy but that’s all it is—an act. It’s embarrassing.” He dropped his head into his hands looking as dejected as he sounded.

“I’m terribly sorry.” And I was. Bradley really seemed like a decent guy. Sure, he’d made some mistakes in his life, but hadn’t we all? A thought struck me. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but your father isn’t doing well and … he must have made provisions for you, something to … to take care of you after he’s gone.”

Bradley sighed again, head still firmly planted in his hands. “Yes, I’m sure that’s the case. But honestly, I don’t have any more time to wait. The IRS is going to take our house and cars soon, and I don’t have access to my father’s money until after he’s gone. And in reality…” He looked at me with tears falling openly down his face. “I’d rather my dad still be here, even like this. I know it’s selfish, in a way, but I just wish he could hear me and feel how sorry I am for being a screwup.” He stood, taking his father’s limp hand in his, and leaned over the bed, sobbing.

It was pretty awkward and I really felt horrible for him. I knew I could have helped, even a small bit, by touching him. But it seemed like a huge invasion of his privacy and, well, sometimes the best way to deal with grief is to face it head on, as he was doing.

“I’m sorry. I really am.” Bradley grabbed a tissue and blew his nose loudly. “Can you give me a minute? Then maybe we can go out to the garden and have lunch. I’m pretty hungry.”

I nodded. “Sure. No problem. Take your time.” I left the room, quietly closing the door behind me. Perky Kristen was standing outside and pounced on me the moment I stepped out into the hall.

“Everything okay, hon?”

“I’m fine. But, well, it’s not an easy situation.”

“Oh, I know, and poor Mr. Bradley, he comes here all the time, and it is always the same. He apologizes to his father and ends up leaving in tears. He was doing it when the old man was conscious, but nothing and no one ever seemed to make that old man happy but Mr. Bradley’s friend Nick Gordin.” She shook her head, tsking. “Terrible thing what happened to Nick,” she said in a low voice. “Then when he got the news, Mr. Warren slipped into a coma and that was it. It is awfully nice of you to come and visit your grandpa, though!”

“Um, what?”

“Your grandfather, Mr. Warren.”

I was just about to correct her when she continued, “Your dad told me you were away at school somewhere.”

Wait. Bradley had a daughter? He had mentioned some illegitimate kids. I stayed silent, waiting to see what else she might reveal.

“Anyway, you coming out here to see the old man, especially the way he’s treated your daddy, is so sweet. I suppose you know this, but Mr. Warren told me he was leaving the bulk of his money to Nick Gordin. Forty million dollars!” She placed her hands on her hips and shook her head. “And poor Mr. Bradley will get the remaining five million. It’s just wrong, that’s what it is. To treat his only son like so much trash.”

Whoa.

Dederick came up behind us, startling me. His mouth pressed into a hard line.

“Kristen, what’s going on? You know we don’t discuss patient details with anyone!”

“Oh! But Miss Evie here is Mr. Verne’s granddaughter.” Dederick shot me a suspicious look. “No, she isn’t. She’s a friend of Mr. Bradley’s.”

Kristen brought a hand to her mouth. “Oh dear.” She glanced over at me and then at Dederick. “I, um, I better be off. Nice to meet you, miss.” She turned to go but not before Dederick requested her presence in his office when her shift ended.

I felt certain that Kristen’s days were numbered at Platinum Partners. And I wished I could have helped her out … because thanks to her slipup, I was certain I’d learned the motive for Nick’s murder
and
I was certain I knew who the killer was. I calmly walked over to Dederick, who was again seated behind the desk at the nurse’s station.

“Mr. Verne is having a really hard time in there with his dad. I’ve decided to take a rain check on our lunch and give him some much-needed downtime. Would you be able to pass along my regrets and let him know I’ll call him later today?” Dederick nodded, but didn’t say much. He retrieved my purse and I made a hasty exit, feeling his eyes on me all the way down the hall. I felt bad for ditching Bradley in his time of need, but I wanted to make sure I was nowhere near Bradley Verne, because I had no intention of following Nick to the grave.

CHAPTER FIFTY

MY HANDS WERE SHAKING as I dropped into the driver’s seat of my van. I coasted out of the main entrance and pulled over further down the drive, away from potentially nosy valets. I knew I needed to talk to someone, and the only rational person I could think of, the only one who had a real stake in this, was Joshua.

I whipped out my phone and hit autodial. Joshua didn’t answer, but I left him a message saying I thought I knew who’d murdered his dad. Yeah, it probably wasn’t the greatest way to share the news, but it’s not like I had a lot of options … or time.

“I’ll tell you about what I learned tonight and we can come up with a game plan.” I hung up only to see a text arrive from Simone. Apparently she was having a
business
lunch with Joshua and things were going swimmingly. So much for her
spa
day. At least I now knew why I couldn’t reach Joshua.

I texted her back, “Tell Joshua to check his messages after lunch.” No point in ruining their little tête-á-tête.

Meanwhile, I had some time to kill before I was scheduled to work at the bar, and I needed to to think all of this through.

I was pretty shaken by what Kristen told me. See, I liked Bradley. And, to a lesser degree, I liked his wife. But I also knew—and not just from listening to my dad on the pulpit— money and greed caused people to do evil things. Fact is, when you considered the resentment Bradley no doubt felt towards Nick and to his father, well, it sure seemed like he had some strong motive for murder. Sure, the guy would have gotten five million, and in my world, that is some serious cash. However, forty-five million was a heck of a lot more and, considering Bradley’s bankruptcy and his obvious concern about failing his wife, well, it was a no-brainer.

But now came the hard part. As in, how to get proof.

As soon as I arrived back home, Bradley called. I decided to answer, trying hard to keep my voice as normal as possible.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Evie. It’s Bradley Verne. Is everything okay? I came out of my father’s room and Dederick said you’d decided to take a rain check on lunch.” He paused for a moment. “I-I hope you weren’t too uncomfortable with my waterworks.”

“Hey, I’m sorry. Truth is, it seemed like you could use a break and I figured we could meet up for lunch another time when things weren’t so, um, heavy. And as it turned out, I got a text from my other boss saying she needed me for a gig tonight. I wanted to tell you in person but you were so upset. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I just wanted to make sure I hadn’t scared you off.”

Yes, you did! “No, not at all. Thanks for checking on me though.” I paused, collecting my thoughts. “Hey, maybe you and Raquela can come by the bar tonight? Drinks are on me.”

“You don’t have to do that. Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, of course!” At this point, I wasn’t sure if I should win an Oscar or receive a one-way ticket to hell. I’d never lied like this back home.